Imagine
by Doc Roe
Summary: Just close your eyes and imagine what its like to be me.


**A little melodramatic, I know. Also, I just wanna say thank you to all that've been reviewing. Thank you so very much3**

Imagine you're a little boy; a big brother to a new baby and the man of the house when Daddy doesn't come home. You see Mommy trying to hide the tears when she and Daddy fight because she doesn't want you to be upset too, but you always do. She loves you more than anything in the entire world and all you want is for everyone to be happy because that's what family is supposed to be, and for now, that's all you can wish for.

Imagine seeing Mommy on the ceiling, her stomach bleeding, and now everything is really hot. The baby is crying and the smoke hurts your lungs, but Daddy told you to take him outside as fast as you can. You're scared because you're entire world is going up in flames around you, but you can't cry because you need to show Daddy that you're brave. Everything that you knew as a child was going to change. Daddy is sad all the time now. He misses Mommy a lot, now you don't have a home- just a crappy black car. Sammy is just a baby and you have to protect him all the time. You're too afraid to be apart from him for more than a minute because whatever got Mommy can get him too.

Imagine aspiring for perfection. Striving to make Dad happy. Listen to the music he loves, dresses in a similar style, and wanting to be just like him. Perhaps he might see you as a son, rather than a soldier. But when your entire function in this family is to look out for Sam, it's easy to get lost in the shuffle. But you can't complain because that's for wussies. You can't show fear because you need to be brave when Sam wants to be scared. He and Dad are fighting more and more now that Sam is getting older. He doesn't like fighting monsters and things that go bump in the night. All you've ever wanted was for everyone to be happy, but it's hard when everyone's always angry.

Imagine coming home and Sam isn't there. You were supposed to look out for him and now anything in the world could have him. He could be dead for all you knew. Then you have to be the one to tell Dad that you can't find him. The black eye he gives you will sure to fade in about a week. But that's not important. You need to find Sammy. Turns out he ran away. You give your life for your baby brother, and he wants nothing to do with you. Every chance he gets, he leaves. All you can do is sit in the back wanting everyone to be happy when you see Sam walking out of the door for college and Dad slamming the door behind him. You wish things were different- better. But you need to be a good son.

Imagine the loneliness. Sex is a pastime when the cold nights get to be too much. There was a girl named Lisa. She wasn't like the other girls whose name he mustered the effort to remember. By the end of their two-day adventure, you think you're in love. At 20, the idea of forever with this girl seems perfect. But then you look at her, and you see everything you're not. Then there's Cassie. Maybe things can be different with her. However, you make the mistake of telling her what you really do for a living. You can't fit into the mold that society has created for normal people. You drift in and out of reality like a ghost; the cold realization that you can never truly be happy begins to set in. Maybe if you had Sam with you again, things would be a little better. But that's right- he wants nothing to do with your life. The only person that cares about you is the Impala your father gave you.

Imagine not really knowing who you are. Everyday a new identity, a new credit card, a new con. No permanent residence to call your own. The only thing you've got is a GED which is virtually worthless because of the amount of felonies you're racking up. You look in the mirror and realize that you could die right now, and only about three people would actually care. To everyone else, you're probably with Homeland Security, with an insurance company, the county police department, the FBI, or anything else that'll grant you access. But it's okay. You mask it all with humor, false charm, and whatever liquor you can find. It'll all be better in the morning.

Imagine losing count of the amount of times you sat up late at night, a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand, and pistol in another. All it takes is one pull of the trigger beneath your finger and it can all be over. Sweet relief from the pain that's slowly eating away at your soul. Deep down, you don't really want to find the thing that killed Mom. You were the prefect toy soldier your entire life and now you're just drained. Half the time, you don't care. You just want it all to be over. But you always end up putting the gun down and finishing off the bottle before tossing it aside. You'll suffer one more day, week, month, or year (if need be), because there's always that lingering hope that maybe things will be better eventually. You and Sam will get to be brothers again, Dad will find peace, and this all will be just a distant memory.

Just close your eyes and imagine what it's like to be me.


End file.
